Walk Worthy

by   September 24, 2019 with No Comments

By Lynna Clark

We really enjoy watching the Atlanta Braves play. In fact we’ve been fans long enough to remember the days of Andrew Jones, Javy Lopez, John Smoltz, and long before that Dale Murphy. Now we appreciate all the new guys. I think what makes it so enjoyable is that the team is having a good time. They joke with the opposing fans and players. They laugh at each other and make fun of their own mistakes. I kinda love it. Plus all the winning is fun too.

The other night something terrible happened. One of our favorite players, Charlie Culberson, got hit in the head with a ninety-one mile an hour fastball. He immediately went down. As Charlie lay bleeding in the dirt, we waited… and prayed.

The third base coach, Ron Washington is a seasoned veteran who tends to treat each player as a son. As Charlie suffered, Papa Wash, as David dubbed him, kneeled in the dirt beside him. While medics attended his head, gently he patted Charlie’s leg as if soothing his son.

Eventually the medical staff was able to get our wounded player onto a cart. As they drove away Charlie lifted his head to search out the National’s pitcher Fernando Rodney. The men exchanged a moment of grace when Charlie simply gave him a thumbs up. Rodney was visibly shaken and struggled to maintain control when later he continued pitching.

A fastball to the head is serious. Most likely Charlie is out for the rest of this season. If bones are crushed near the eye socket his entire career could be over. I remember years ago when a player was hit with a similar pitch. Because of a shift in the position of the bones around the eye, the man no longer had the depth perception he needed to play. I’m sure both men were aware of the severity of the injury. Yet one simple gesture said in essence,

“It’s okay. I know the ball just got away from you.” 

I felt almost as sorry for the pitcher as I did for Charlie. I wanted to hug him and usher him away from the field. Like Papa Wash I wanted to kneel in the dirt by Charlie. Like the man on the cart holding a towel on Charlie’s head I wanted to put an arm around his shoulder and tell him I’m proud of his reaction toward Rodney. Had I been there I would have tipped my cap and saluted the Washington fans for the silence they gave to the moment and later for their standing ovation as Charlie was carted away.

The Braves announcers were so sickened by the moment that Jeff Francoeur could hardly continue. Chip Caray chose his words wisely and promised us updates. He too expressed sympathy for the pitcher and even the manager of the opposing team.

I know.

None of them are perfect. But I love the Braves. They reminded me of something valuable. People are hurting all around us. May we kneel in the dirt, pat someone on the back, or gently speak a word of grace.

No matter where life takes us, may we do our best to walk worthy of our calling.

You Couldn’t Do That!

by   September 23, 2019 with No Comments

By David Freeze

    One of my favorite stories, often recounted for motivation of my fitness and wellness clients, happened about 40 years ago. I heard the other day about a book that had all the references to can’t and negativity cut out of it. Not much was left of the book. Here’s a story of nearly all positives. I hope you enjoy it.

     Back in 1979, I had the occasion to watch the New York City Marathon on TV. It wasn’t intended, but that TV show went a long way toward changing my life for the next 40 years. My wife at the time and I had a bad habit. She worked at Revco Drug, the forerunner to CVS of today. A couple of times a week, one of her responsibilities was to clear the out of date candy from the store. She didn’t throw it away and usually brought it home. On those days, I couldn’t wait to dig into the candy bag. We sat around and ate until we both fell asleep in our chairs, having developed a regular pattern.

    While that sounds very bad, we were both athletes. I was playing up to 100 games of softball every summer and in a basketball league during the winter. She was an outstanding shortstop for her women’s softball team. We both gained weight and soon I had an extra 30 pounds going that I didn’t like.

    We watched that marathon together and loved ABC’s coverage of 15,000 runners in the streets and boroughs of the greatest city in the world. I don’t remember much about the winners, but I do remember what they said about the training required to complete 26.2 miles. I was mesmerized and didn’t miss any of the four hours of coverage.

      At the end, we both were sitting on the couch and I said, “I think I would like to do that, run the New York City Marathon.” My wife said, “There is no way that you could ever do anything like that!” She started laughing and rolled off the couch to emphasize how funny she though the idea was. Nothing more was said.

     That night, for the first time in my life, I ran a mile because I wanted to. It was horrid and I struggled in my Converse basketball shoes. But I finished the mile, and somehow managed to make myself climb three steps into the house. I was worn out and certainly didn’t like the experience.

    The next night, I did it again. Running that second mile was just a tad easier. Two weeks later, I ran a 5K (3.1 miles) and promised God if he would just let me finish, I wouldn’t try it again. The last uphill mile was torture.

    But I lied, a few weeks later, I ran an 8K (4.97 miles) and finished 49th out of 50 runners. Again, miserable would have been too nice of a word. I was not very good at this running thing, but my weight was starting to fall, and I felt more alert. I stopped eating the candy and soon it was given to others at the store. No more of those bags of chocolate came home.

     You have probably guessed by now, but I kept training. I ran to my softball games and ran during weekend tournaments between games. I was hooked.

     When April rolled around, I secretly applied to get in the New York City Marathon. After acceptance into the event (about a third of applicants got in), serious training to complete 26.2 miles began. Still not sure that I could run the distance, I kept quiet for a time.

       Training went well and when the 1980 New York City Marathon cannon blast started the runners, I was in the field. A long 26.2 miles later, I crossed the finish line in Central Park to complete my first marathon, one year from the day that I set a goal. My wife was there and saw my finish.

     Goals are meant to be challenging, yet reachable. Dreams go well with goals. Set yours today.

That Heavy Load

by   September 22, 2019 with No Comments

By Ann Farabee

Laptop, notebook, snacks, clothes, and an excess of needed items from home. One backpack and three additional bags – filled. I was set to spend the day at the hospital with my son, who was scheduled for surgery.

6am. Arrived in parking deck. Too much concrete and darkness in there for me.

I hurriedly grabbed my ‘stuff’ and my journey began. Goodness, what a heavy load I was carrying! I was not sure I could make it!

The first part of the trek was slightly uphill. I whispered my most often said prayer, “Lord, help me.” It all felt so hopeless – maybe I should turn around and leave some ‘stuff’ in the car.

But, I saw the entrance up ahead. There was no reason to turn back. I had come too far to stop now…

When I got inside the hospital, I put my bags down and began struggling to re-adjust my backpack. As I fumbled with it, someone stopped to help me lift it to a better carrying position on my back. It was still a heavy load, but felt much better! I grabbed my other bags, and continued, while still wondering if I could make it to the elevator.

Feeling a little overwhelmed with the load – and the day ahead – I looked down as someone passed me from the opposite direction. Even though I wasn’t looking at them, they cheerfully called out, “Good morning.” I felt obligated to look up from my heaviness – and respond.

Then, I guess I decided to keep looking up – and I started to notice all that was around me.

A bouquet of flowers on a table.

How pretty!

Artwork on the walls.

How beautiful!

A row of rocking chairs.

How comforting!

People smiling – and saying hello.

How nice of them!

A little girl in a frilly pink dress, speaking excitedly in Spanish, while carrying a vase with the biggest sunflower ever!

I had to smile… in spite of my heavy load.

As I stepped onto the elevator, there was a lady with some bags that appeared even more cumbersome than mine. We both laughed, as she said, “Looks like we are having a contest to see who can carry the most stuff!”

That is when I realized that somewhere along the way, my load had begun to feel lighter.

How was the rest of my day? The surgery was cancelled. The doctor decided it was not needed.

As I gathered up my ‘stuff’ to head home later, my son said, “How did you carry that heavy load in here by yourself?”

I looked around to see if God was in the room, putting those words into his mouth, because they were so perfect.

“I wasn’t by myself,” I responded. “Not by myself at all.”

Ann is a speaker and teacher. Contact her at annfarabee@gmail.com or https://www.annfarabee.com/

We Need Rain

by   September 21, 2019 with No Comments

By Doug Creamer

            I make the daily trek to get the mail. Normally, there is some kind of catalog, some junk mail, and a few bills. I know the catalog count is going to increase, especially as we enter the holiday season. No one can stop the monthly bills. I did think about inventing a recycle box to connect to the mailbox so the mailman could toss all the junk mail in automatically for me. I think that it’s a million-dollar idea.

            I opened the water bill the other day and almost passed out. It was sky high. How could the water bill be higher than the electric bill?  It’s been a hot month and I know the air conditioner has been running a lot.

            All I have to do is walk around my house and I quickly realize why the water bill is so high. We love our outdoor spaces and they are covered in beautiful plants…plants that require watering. Then, there is the vegetable garden, which has a few things going. And I can’t forget the red raspberries, which are producing a wonderful fall crop for me. I love going out every other day and picking some for my cereal.

            Several weeks ago we were getting some pretty regular rain showers but it has stopped again. I think the recent hurricanes off the coast zap all the energy that might give us a shower or two up our way. Whatever the cause, we have been dry. When it is dry, I need to keep things watered, and that watering leads to higher water bills.

            It won’t be long now and we will start to get some fronts coming through the area. Actually, I am looking forward to some cooler weather. It’s been a hot, dry summer and I am looking forward to the change in seasons. I have lots of work that I want to do outside, but I am waiting on the change in the weather.

            Some nice fall rain would be welcome, not that I am asking for the remnants of a tropical system to come our way. I would prefer the cooling fronts from Canada. The main thing is, I believe we could use some rain. In fact, I am praying for some rain. The prayers have become a cry not only for the natural rain, but I am also asking for some spiritual rain.

            I hear stories of churches that are closing. I see that many people are doing other things on Sunday besides going to church. There hasn’t been a decrease in our population, so why are churches closing and why is church attendance down?

            I know I live in the Bible belt. In the south, it seems our faith has always been a part of our hallmark. We are believers. The trouble is not church buildings. There are plenty of those around. There is a church in every town to meet every style. Some churches work hard at reaching out, while others could do a little more. I really don’t think that is the problem.

            I think we have a spiritual apathy in our society. It’s not unusual; there were plenty of times in the Bible where the children of God became apathetic. Look around, people have filled their lives with all kinds of things. God isn’t one of them. They would rather do other things besides seek God’s face.

            That’s why we need some heavenly rain. We need a visitation of God’s Spirit to awaken the disconnected. We need renewal within our churches and revival for those who are lost and not seeking the Lord. Every one of us knows people who don’t attend church and who do not seek a relationship with their Heavenly Father.

            People need the Lord. He is the author of hope, mercy, forgiveness, the peace that goes beyond understanding, and the One who provides a purpose for our lives. Jesus is the answer. People are seeking the answer through material possessions, drugs, alcohol, and worldly pleasure. The answer is seeking the Lord and knowing who we are in His eyes. We are His children and He is our Father. He loves us beyond words.

            I want to encourage you to join me in praying for some spiritual rain. Pray that the lost will receive their sight and see their Savior. Pray that the broken-hearted will find comfort in their Father’s arms. Pray that the hungry and thirsty will find their satisfaction in the Spirit of God. Pray for heavenly rain, the kind that will renew our hearts and bring the lost home.

Contact Doug Creamer at PO Box 777, Faith, NC 28041or doug@dougcreamer.com

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